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Nov 2012
What do you do? When the world is this unfair to you? I should just start lying cause they say it hurts to be true. It hurts to be left. It hurts to be dropped. What's worse it feels nothing, to be nothing, when your within has been chopped. Severed from waiting. Severed from chance that your hands will be waving to bring me on back. What do you do when these words are all you have and you read them to yourself so something that makes sense can talk back. Must write them. Must write them down so no one can ever forget. Until my dexterous fingers with blood they drip wet. But no one will see because no one can read them. Till up the ground and you plant them. You seed them. But nothing ever grows when the sun turns its back. No one ever blossoms with their life spent like that. You wouldn't believe me if you told you anyway. That these are my demons, with your mind they will play. No sense could be made even day after day. So just like the others. You fly fly away. It's ok. Ill just live in roulette, I'll keep my head spinning so I can't feel the regret that clings to the walls of the brain I was slewn. That makes walk round the body that sings its hollow tunes. Scripted I rise. Unscripted I fall. Don't tell me you love me. Cause I never had any parents at all.
I found out today that the grandfather that I was named after lies on his deathbed. 23 years. And my mother finally admits that I don't know her. Blames it on me because I didn't ask the questions. 23 years and I never knew the man I was named after. Now with him will die my name.
Johnny Overseas
Written by
Johnny Overseas  Minnesota
(Minnesota)   
563
   September
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